


Blanket Fortress

by LadyJaye



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dorks in Love, Fluff, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Not Black Panther (2018) Compliant, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), T'Challa is not a fan of snow, Tony thinks it's funny, obviously?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 11:13:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14163588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyJaye/pseuds/LadyJaye
Summary: T'Challa doesn't want to get out of bed. Tony has other plans.





	Blanket Fortress

**Author's Note:**

> This was written like a year ago? I just found it again while searching through my google drive for something else. Hence the tags! Hope you enjoy!

Tony hummed as he shifted in the familiar and yet rather unfamiliar bed. Eyes still firmly closed he stretched his arms, arching his back beneath the comfortable weight. 

“Hmmm,” T’Challa rumbled against his neck, stubbled cheek running across his sensitive skin.The sensation spread down his shoulders rolling down his back. Tony snorted and once he’d eased out of the pleasant aches of a night well spent he cracked an eye open to peer at the man who had seen fit to practically surround him in warmth. T’Challa moved back up his body to rest at his neck again, lazily pressing his lips to the underside of Tony's chin. 

“No,”T’Challa grumbled and Tony guessed the other man had been awake long before him. Not too unusual considering the jet lag. He had just flown halfway across the world and New York had been his first stop for a meeting with the UN. Tony himself was no stranger to odd sleeping habits. He admitted readily moments after entering the room that he hadn’t slept in over 72 hours. Tony inched up to sit and T’Challa shifted to give him the space still staying as wrapped around him as possible. 

“What time is it?” Tony asked and when he caught a look at the clock he groaned. He had an hour and a half to get to his own meeting. Which happened to also be at the UN. As per usual they’d have to leave at separate times to vary their arrival. 

“You know, you could always just stay in bed,” T’Challa grumbled. His arms tightened and Tony chuckled. 

“You just don't want to go outside,” he replied, wiggling free only to be caught again by even stronger legs. Tony lifted the comforter to get a look at T’Challa's muscles in action only to have his hand smacked in retribution. 

If he had any illusions about his lover’s sudden clinginess they were dashed by how quickly T’Challa had bundled the comforter around them. 

“T’Challa!” 

“Yes?” 

“You know we have to go outside at some point,” Tony said amused at how quickly the other man managed to secure the blankets around them like a cocoon. 

T’Challa grumbled in response and tightened his hold on the blankets and by default Tony. 

“A grown man and King thwarted by snow,” Tony chuckled. He wriggled his foot and poked a hole through T’Challa’s attempts to keep them surrounded by warmth. His laughter intensified at T’Challa’s high pitched yelp and frantic shifting to cover the hole. With the King sufficiently distracted Tony rolled to the side and slipped right out of his arms and onto the floor. 

“No!” T’Challa moaned in dismay. Tony grinned and stretched languidly as he stood naked and bare. His toes curled into the carpet as sore muscles flexed in the aftermath of a very good night or rather morning. 

“Hmm? What was that sour puss?” Tony chanced a glance over his shoulder and couldn’t stop his loud yelp if he’d tried. There sat on the bed was T’Challa wrapped from head to toe in not only the comforter but another blanket and the top sheet with only his eyes peeking out of a small opening. In the dim light only the whites of his eyes were visible. 

“Come back to bed,” T’Challa demanded in a voice that was surely meant to be authoritative but only managed to make Tony double over in a fit of snorting giggles. 

“Oh, God! What even…?” Tony wheezed from the floor. T’Challa snorted himself but seemed to refuse to dignify Tony’s display with a response. 

He laughed so hard his stomach started to cramp and his vision blurred with unshed tears. He grinned up at the ominous blanket fortress on the bed but didn’t even try to talk until the laughter had fully subsided. 

“You look ridiculous,” Tony announced. 

“I’m not the one lying on the cold floor,” T’Challa replied haughtily. Tony mimicked him with a roll of his eyes. 

“First of all, this floor is heated.” 

T’Challa huffted from his blanket haven but clearly sent a furtive glance downward then back to Tony who sighed obnoxiously.

“You know what?” Tony said slowly rising to his feet. He managed gracefully and for that he was thankful. If this didn’t work to get T’Challa up and running for the day he didn’t know what would. Although he was fairly confident he had the chops for this. 9 out of 10 test runs confirmed it. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” Tony said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. He arched his back and shuffled towards the bathroom. He counted down from 10 in his head as he turned the faucet in the actually rather large shower. Steam quickly filled the room and within seconds the sound of pounding feet filled the space. 

“And 3...2...1..,”

There was a slight breeze as T’Challa slid past him and into the warm heat of steam and hot water. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” Tony quipped. T’Challa made grabby hands at him from behind a wall of steam and Tony smirked as he obliged and stepped inside.


End file.
